


Funhouse

by elfinmouse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfinmouse/pseuds/elfinmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean takes Castiel to his first carnival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Funhouse

**Author's Note:**

> fill for a prompt on commentfic for theladymore

“Just keep moving,” Dean said tightly, pressing one hand to Castiel’s shoulder as they pushed through the panicking, gawking crowd.

“But Dean, I think I should apologize,” Castiel said, craning his neck backwards to look at the smoldering wreckage behind them.

“Apologize how exactly?” Dean whispered harshly, eyes darting sideways to check no one was listening to their conversation as he pushed Castiel to walk faster. “You really think it’s as simple as saying ‘Sorry I smote the hell out of your haunted house’?” 

Castiel drew himself up indignantly, shoulders rolling back as he lifted his chin. “I was not expecting the loud buzzing noise accompanying the appearance of the puppet.”

“There’s always a buzzing sound. Whistles and bells, that’s what these cheap haunted house rides are all about,” Dean said, the tension and ire slipping out of his voice. A grin crossed his face as he recalled when their dinky, jittery cart had swung them around a tight corner; Castiel jolting like he’d been shot as the cheap Scream mask popped up out of the not-very-dark darkness with a flash of strobe-lights and an ear ringing buzzer. 

A half-second of crackling energy, an unearthly pressure Dean felt on something other than his skin, and then a bolt of holy lightning had cut down through the ceiling and disintegrated the Scream puppet. And ignited all the cheap Halloween decorations. The spray painted glow-in-the-dark faces accelerated the spread as the fire hit them with a soft whumping noise; the shockwave blew out the wall in front of them, the cheap metal peeling outward as easily as though it was aluminum foil.

When Dean managed to shut his mouth and tear his gob-smacked gaze from the carnage where a funhouse had been fifteen seconds ago, Castiel had been looking at him with wide, imploring blue eyes, his fingers opening and closing nervously on the safety bar in front of them.

Dean chuckled.

“This isn’t funny Dean,” Castiel snapped. “I’ve destroyed an important tool of these people’s livelihood.”

“Cas, man you…” Dean started with a laugh, but turned when he heard his brother calling him.

“Dean!” Sam shouted over the crowd as he darted around a huddle of teenagers ogling the rising smoke. Dean grabbed his arm when he was in reach and kept going. “Talk and walk Sammy.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, eyes darting between him and Castiel as they shoved their way past the candy apple stand. The sound of sirens became audible over the shouting of the crowd. “The haunted house ride just blew up. I thought you two were on it.” Dean found himself both amused and warmed by the concern in Sam’s voice.

“Cas is a chicken shit is what happened,” Dean laughed, and laughed some more at the confused look on his brother’s face.

“Dean,” Castiel warned in a low voice, twisting to shoot him a dour look.

Dean was still laughing when they got to the Impala and fled the scene.


End file.
